Anti-Insomnia
by Sarah1281
Summary: "Late afternoon on a summer day, Javert and Valjean do some reading in Valjean's garden after some works there, and Javert bores himself to sleep."


Anti-Insomnia

Javert was new to gardening and often found his efforts clumsy in comparison to Valjean's but he did have to say that he rather enjoyed the activity.

It helped that Valjean never tried to make him feel like his beginning efforts were inadequate and, quite the contrary, he had been very encouraging. For his part, Javert was getting better at not seeing condescension where Valjean did not mean any.

Gardening could be a very useful occupation. If Madeleine had really been Madeleine or Valjean had given into the feelings of vengeance that Javert suspected still tempted him even if he was too good to eve give in to them then when Javert had been dismissed from the police after the Champmathieu incident becoming a gardener would have been a worthy new position for him.

Of course, growing vegetables was far more useful than growing flowers but even the flowers were not completely frivolous. Seeing the beauty of flowers made people feel better and it really was such a simple thing. And as far as non-work activities went, gardening was more productive than playing cards.

Javert doubted that the few hours he devoted to gardening here and there would ever allow him to match Valjean with his years of first pruning and then gardening as his employment but he was confident that he was improving. Valjean kept threatening to give him his own area of the garden that Valjean would not interfere with and see how well he did.

Yes, Javert quite liked gardening but now they were done for the day but the sun had not yet set and so they were enjoying the fruits of their labor by sitting out in the garden. Cosette had confided that, though her father had spent most of his time in the garden at the convent and clearly loved it there, he had rarely ventured into the garden at Rue Plumet in all the years that they had lived there.

Javert knew why, of course. A man simply did not manage to evade the law for as long as Jean Valjean did when he stayed in more-or-less one spot in the country that hunted him without taking a few precautions. Being seen for hours on end as he labored in or simply enjoyed a garden and thus being seen by everyone who passed by might not have actually gotten him arrested but it was certainly a very large risk that Valjean had evidently elected not to take.

It was good for Valjean to be able to enjoy being in a garden again and he deserved to be happy after all the good and happiness he had brought to everyone else, after all that he had done even just for Javert. He really should be encouraged in this.

All the same…

"A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility," Valjean read.

Javert did not know what it was (the years of long toil as a peasant, the longer years of longer toil as a prisoner, the many duties and responsibilities of a philanthropic factory-owning mayor, the persistent feeling that nothing was ever enough) but Valjean shared his dislike for being idle. They could not just enjoy sitting in the garden, oh no, they had to be doing something useful as well.

Javert had long-since been in the habit of reading to improve himself but he did not enjoy the way that Valjean seemed to. Valjean took to books the way he had never taken to people and there was something very sad about that, particularly when Javert was made to suffer along with him. Javert did not mind reading so much when the books were useful and instructional but Valjean had far more books available to him than did Javert and so was usually the one who chose the book.

"Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth- and it was soon done- done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course."

Right now, they were in the middle of some ghastly translation from England. It was _fictional_. What was the point of a fictional book? It did not teach anyone anything important nor did it have the benefit of at least really happening and so expanding his knowledge about history or people who lived vastly different lives than he did.

And it wasn't even French. If it had to be a waste of time fictional novel it could at least have the decency to be French in case it might impart some sort of valuable information after all.

But no, this was British.

They had been reading it for what seemed like an eternity though in reality he knew it had actually been more like a week. He carefully watched Valjean's hands as they turned the pages, hoping to see progress being made. Somehow, despite the fact that they were now roughly through the book, he had not seen any progress being made. It was disgruntling. The book was too long.

"In his library he had been always sure of leisure and tranquility; and though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the house, he was used to be free from them there; his civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go."

Javert tried to let his mind wander but he was never very good at that. He had always believed it was disrespectful and foolish to allow his attention to waver no matter how ridiculous or dull he found the task at hand and he had been particularly focused on Valjean's voice for quite some

time and couldn't ignore it if he tried.

He couldn't even tell Valjean how insipid he found this all since he knew that Valjean would just get that hurt look on his face and immediately stop doing something that he loved at the slightest hint of Javert's disapproval. Valjean wouldn't blame him and might even enjoy himself with a more sensible book but it wouldn't be the same. Surely the book couldn't last much longer!

He glanced again at the pages. It would appear that they were no further along than they had been before despite several more minutes passing. Why couldn't Valjean read faster? Why had he insisted on reading aloud so that they could both 'enjoy' the book? Everyone knew reading quietly was far quicker and more productive.

"His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation- a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street," Valjean droned on.

This was worse than the usual fictional drivel he had somehow ended up reading over the course of his long quest to improve himself. At least then there was an actual point to the books. The stories might not have really happened but there were important, if untrue, things that were happening! Villains needed to be stopped (and these were all proper villains who relished in their villainy and didn't have the nerve to go out and become a hero and just throw everything into disarray), problems needed to be solved, and the day needed to be saved.

This book was…a lot less of anything worthwhile. Even if the events in this book were true and the more exciting – though still pointless – stories were not he would still say that the stakes were higher in the fake story than the real one.

There was a very well-off family with servants who had five daughters that they needed to marry off. Of course it was a very real problem that the estate was entailed to men and so when the elderly father died they mother and daughters would be left to the mercy of this foolish Mr. Collins. He did seem inclined to be merciful so there was that.

Still, he knew very well the fate that could befall women who were not adequately provided for. What annoyed him was that Mr. Bennet had always known of the entail and of the possibility of not having a son and yet he had not done anything to try and prepare his family for the worst. He had said something about how he had not given up for years (hence the five daughters) and that once he had given up on the possibility of having a son it just seemed too late to start planning for the future.

The well-being of his daughters and wife depended on him saving what he could, at least for a dowry, and he just decided it was too late to bother? That sort of lazy and irresponsible behavior was appalling but no one seemed to blame him.

Javert had always known that old age would be difficult for him. He was not yet past the age of being able to serve the police and he might have an exceedingly wealthy and foolishly generous friend willing to give Javert anything he wanted but that had not always been the case. He had believed that, should he survive, one day he would be left with nothing. His salary was meager but he did not have a family and had been saving for his eventual dismissal from the police foe years now.

And yet Mr. Bennet with his hundreds of pounds a year could not manage? Even if they just dismissed a servant and had to do a bit more work by hand they could at least set aside something!

And then these were thoroughly impractical people! Mrs. Bennet might have been loud and annoying but she was clearly the only one properly concerned with the future. Perhaps the eldest daughter was as well but certainly not any of the others or their heroine.

Javert had no idea why none of them were considering working. The idle life they lived was far more comfortable than any employment they might be able to attain as governesses or companions but surely that was preferable to starving on the streets! It was like their predicament was not fully apparent to any of them. He could not expect people of a certain class to be glad to fall so low as the rest of them but it should be something to consider if nothing else was working and the alternative was to be left with literally nothing.

Obviously their first choice was going to be to get married and hope to have a son so this situation did not happen again. Getting married was perhaps the most important thing women ever did to secure their future.

But that did not mean that it was particularly interesting.

What did it matter to him who these women found to marry them? Why did he need this minutiae about their everyday existence? He already understood that they needed to marry people. That was quite enough of the story for him. And the fact that this was apparently a love story where they found people they loved to marry instead of just getting married was…well it was good for them but would just make this take longer and he did not care for such things.

He would barely concede to even _having_ a love story himself and was not about to be interested in anyone else's. And how much could their possibly be to say about love and day-to-day life in England twenty years ago?

"She received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more, apologizing for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with her, which he could not help flattering himself, however, might be justified by his relationship to the young ladies who introduced him to her notice. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about the other; of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant's commission in the -shire."

Ah, yes, the intrigue of an uninvited guest apologizing for that and being instantly forgiven for being so dashing!

Was it just him or was the sun getting warmer? He stretched out on his chair and leaned back as Valjean went on.

It was actually very comfortable out here though that was no surprise. Valjean may not ever think to take measures to ensure his own comfort but he went far far beyond reason to make everyone else he knew comfortable. Perhaps in the future they could help persuade Valjean to better seek his own comfort by insisting that their own comfort was lessened when he was not comfortable? He made a mental note to discuss the idea with Cosette.

Valjean was too busy reading to look over at him but Javert still didn't want to be rude and yawn in front of him but he couldn't just ignore the urge and so he did his best to yawn without opening his mouth. He was sure it looked rather odd and wasn't completely effective but it was the best that he could do.

His eyelids were getting heavy but he did not need to see anything in order to listen to Valjean's words and completely fail to visualize the story in his mind like Valjean claimed he was supposed to. The scenery was very nice but he had seen it before and would see it again.

He just closed his eyes for a moment.

When Valjean reached the end of the chapter, he looked over at Javert to see if he should continue or if the other man had had enough for the day.

His lips curled into a startled smile when he saw that Javert had fallen asleep.

Another man, Valjean knew, might be upset that Javert had drifted off in the middle of being read to but Valjean didn't mind. Javert was always working so hard and it was enough that Javert even consented to be read to in the first place.

He set his book down and then leaned back in his chair, just enjoying the day with one of the people who meant the most to him.


End file.
